


Meraki

by chewingonpearls (Reallife)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Asexual representation, F/F, F/M, Gift Fic, Hacker Darcy!, Male and Female Friendship, Mechanic/Demolitions Expert!Jubilation Lee, Multimedia Fic, SUPPORT PEOPLE, do the gifs makeup for the terrible disorganization of this fic, female friendship is important, friendship is important, mentions of Wolverine, no powers!AU, references, sort of, this fic is like four tiny fics stacked up in a trenchcoat trying to pass for one fic, this was supposed to be 1k
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 23:19:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9350678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reallife/pseuds/chewingonpearls
Summary: This is the story of how a Ballet Mistress and a VA Counselor bring in two of FBI's most wanted. No, wait.This is the story of how Natasha Romanova learns to accept comfort from her nightmares, and Sam Wilson tries to get past the fear Riley's death instilled. No that's not it either. This is a story about finding your home, about how it's not always what you expect and it's not easy but it's still home, about a Hacker who found a family with some Scandinavian scientists and a California mallrat who learned her way around an engine from a Canadian cowboy.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CinnaAtHeart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinnaAtHeart/gifts).



> **Disclaimers** : Locations, especially in places I have never been, are fudged. No actual research on the Triads as been done. Because I am a bum and I like my ‘verse to be unrealistic to be quite frank. The book cited at the beginning is not real, but the names are a mini homage to two of my heroes.
> 
>  **Credit** The cover is made by me, the dossiers in the middle (ish) are made by me using a template by [crybaby-rph](http://crybaby-rph.tumblr.com/), the gifs at the beginning are made by [Amanda](lisbugrph) and the last gif was made by [peterpanouatrph](http://peterpanouatrph.tumblr.com/post/155050453193/amber-liu-with-brown-hair-anthony-mackie). The beginning of this fic was beta read by [sergeant-angels-trashcan](http://sergeant-angels-trashcan.tumblr.com/) and [](http://need2destroy.tumblr.com/>need2destroy</a>%20the%20rest%20is%20just%20haphazardly%20thrown%20together%20by%20me%20with%20the%20best%20of%20intent.%20Please%20let%20me%20know%20if%20any%20of%20these%20links%20do%20not%20work%20so%20I%20can%20cry.%20Erm.%20I%20mean%20fix%20them%20while%20crying.%20sorry.)

[ ](http://s1039.photobucket.com/user/Keri_Boone/media/tumblr_messaging_ojumy9Al4l1uo7ocj_540_zpsofnbkfwn.jpg.html)

**meraki** [may-rah-kee] (adjective) This is a word that modern Greeks often use to describe doing something with soul, creativity, or love — when you put “something of yourself” into what you're doing, whatever it may be.

 

It is altogether possible that we will never understand how Soulmates work. The name in and of itself, though becoming more widely used is not universally applicable. For instance if one were to discuss this with someone who commonly spoke Hindi you would be more likely to hear them say _आत्मीय मित्र_. However, our research which includes available histories and interviews seems to show that across all the nations and cultures the bond manifests similarly though different for each pair or triad. It often starts with talents or habits of one party being picked up by the other, from something as complex as languages to something as small as how they stand as they cook. From there it tends to vary, some experience communication through dreams quickly, others experience the world through their Pair Bond’s eyes during their waking hours.

[....]Another aspect that varies from one to another is _when_ the bond starts to form, sometimes when the people in question are toddlers and for some it is not until when they are in old age. Geography tends to be a common factor--members of the bond have started to feel it when they moved closer. However some have not when they have been living in the same city for ten years or more. Some speculate it has something to do with when they are _emotionally_ ready, for instance when one party is in an unhealthy marriage, they may not meet their soulmate until they are ready to leave the marriage or in one case full back on their feet and healed from the poor relationship[...]

Wake, Nancy Grace Augusta. Introduction. Understanding Soulmates. 3rd ed. Vol. 1. Vienna: Zivia Lubetkin, 1962. 5-7. Print. Soulmates Study.

  
[](http://s1039.photobucket.com/user/Keri_Boone/media/darcynat1_zpsjammifsr.gif.html) [](http://s1039.photobucket.com/user/Keri_Boone/media/jubsam1_zpsg2isorax.gif.html)  


December

Why were jewelry stores so cold? Or maybe it was just this one. It was the largest store in town and chain to boot, so they were trying to look ultra fancy to impress the yuppies who probably shopped here monthly. He wouldn’t dare say it out loud though, because Natasha had tried to convince him to go to the three-generation, family-owned store off of 63rd, but he had disagreed because _surely_ the bigger one would have a better selection, right?

Unfortunately, more did not mean better or easier as he was finding out.

Had Bucky Barnes realized trying to get his mother some nice jewelry for once was going to be such a headache, he might have just let Nat and Sarah pick it as they had suggested. Except, going back to the main moral of this story, he couldn’t tell her that, because she was smug enough as it was.

“What about this one?” 

His attention was caught by a sparkling ladybug on a fine silver chain in a display case. The bug itself was about the size of a quarter, eye-catching, but not too gaudy, just like his mother usually preferred. On the chain itself, there were small leaves, bright green, shaped stones that were almost as pretty as the bug..

The tag said the chain was white gold, the leaves emeralds, and the red, sparkling stones rubies. It cost a pretty penny, but was still in his budget. Buying this was important to him; he had planned for it, put back for it.

Natasha, silent as ever, stepped up to his side to peer down at the case just as a sales person came up to them, having noticed their interest. It wasn’t long before he had it in his hands to feel the weight of it, the clerk still standing by and watching them carefully as he ran his fingers over the necklace.

“What do you think, going to take it home today? We can gift wrap it for you!” The man was obviously overeager to make the sale, and the fake enthusiasm almost made Bucky cringe.

Natasha leaned into him, placing the necklace back in his hands, _”It’s pretty, but it’s fake, every bit of it._ ” 

The man was obviously caught off guard by the Russian, though it wasn’t the language that surprised Bucky, it was what she was saying.

 _”How do you know this?”_ He handed the necklace back to the man, smiling politely, but waving off the offer and turning back to his sister to offer his arm.

Natasha took his elbow, the motions familiar and comforting, _”I don’t know, but I’m sure of it, like instinct.”_

As perplexed as he was, Bucky still believed her, she was his sister after all.

That was the first time it happened, and had it been the last, they probably would have forgotten about it.

Steve unlocked Sharon’s apartment while trying not to look suspicious. Which was silly, seeing as both he and Sam were here often for movie nights, potlucks, or any of the other occasions their group had to get together. Sharon was one of the neatest of their group, while also being surprisingly patient with drunken antics (while recording them for posterity, definitely not blackmail _definitely_ ). 

Which meant, unfortunately for her, her place was one of the favorite gathering spots. Go figure.

Still, usually they weren’t here when she was gone, it made him feel like one of her nosy neighbors was going to call the cops or something.

“I still can’t believe she left her sister’s birthday present here, when the whole reason she went there is for her birthday.” 

Behind him Sam laughed, shutting the door behind him as they made their way inside, the present itself was easy enough to find, already wrapped and pretty on the breakfast bar, probably a well padded book by the size and weight. From what they knew Sharon had this long standing tradition with her English Major sister about getting her increasingly rare or old books as presents, both sisters were almost obsessively careful with them

Sam flipped it over in his hands, “Almost made it out the door.” He remarked as Steve dropped his backpack on the table to pull out the box and label they had picked up from the post office. For a military man--or perhaps because he was military--he hated anyplace vaguely bureaucratic and the post office fell into that category. So they intended to be there as little time as possible, label and box already in hand to overnight it to the young Carter’s house.

“Here, find where she texted me the address.” Steve tossed his phone to Sam so he could dig out a pen.

They were using Sam’s house as a return address, as he had the most reliable hours if something unexpected were to happen with the box, though Steve had memorized that a long time ago, “Ready.”

“5563 Oswego Drive, The Village California 73099.” His tone changed sharply as he came to the end, causing Steve to look up at the sudden bitterness in his voice, “Aw man that place used to be awesome until they yuppiefied it for rich people.” 

Steve continued to slide the present carefully into the box but stared up at his pouting friend with a perplexed expression, “Sam I thought you had never been to California?”

Sam startled as if he had just woken up, expression changing between one heartbeat and the next and shook his head, “Yeah you’re right, I don’t know It just poured out to me and I was so angry at them changing that neighborhood even though I’ve never been there.”

His eyebrows were drawn down in confusion as he stared at the address from Sharon’s text as if it held the answers before turning abruptly back towards the door, “C’mon let’s go before the post office closes.”

It’s not really something either of them can ignore. But that’s alright because Sam Wilson has never been one to hide from something just because it’s nerve wracking.

January

Natasha is prepared to sort out this mess herself, thank you very much, she’s twenty seven years old and Soulmates are not a mystery anymore. The odd things are becoming more frequent to the point where they aren’t even alarming anymore; last Friday she became motion sick while reading a book in her living room. 

Stubborn as ever she had just stayed in her recliner, munched on some crackers and continued reading until it passed as inexplicably as it came. Supposedly that’s how it was for everyone as the Soulmate bond started forming, seemingly random bits from the other person coming through at the most inconvenient times that were so often not helpful at all.

How was feeling when her Soulmate was motion sick supposed to help them find each other? Or form any sort of bond? It was stupid if you asked her, and a little late.

Natasha had a full time position at a renowned Dance Academy to worry about, a niece and nephew to dote on courtesy of the youngest of the Barnes children. Natasha herself had been adopted by them when she was twelve, but if anyone had told the little ones that they treated her no different than they did Bucky.

She had friends, had a life. Maybe if this had happened when she had just graduated high school, or even travelling the world as a ballerina. But not now, now it was just inconvenient.

It’s not that she didn’t believe in love or Soulmates, Clint and Bucky were happy together while Steve and Peggy went together so naturally it was like she had always been a part of their group instead of a relatively recent addition. While her adopted parents were not Soulmates they were still deeply in love and had never showed any signs of falling out of it.

It just seemed like the sort of thing that would never happen to Natasha, and as she grew older the childish dreams of love and a white picket fence sort of life changed to a cynical bitter outlook. Finally she had grown up, gotten a little more mature and wiser still, became content with her quiet life as their group and family grew.

Maybe that was why she had been so quick to dismiss what should have been a happy event, she finally had a life she was pleased with and now it was being shaken up. Besides who says she wanted a Soulmate, or even that they would want her? Natasha was a bit odd, even for her friends in some ways and had already received a fair amount of rejection because of it.

No matter what has caused her to dismiss it so readily she would never admit to anyone, especially herself, that one of her last thoughts before she went to bed was wondering what impression her Soulmate already had of her. Wherever she was.

As January bled into February Sam Wilson decided to tell his family about his (fairly) recent life milestone. Or whatever you wanted to call it, when you Soulmate bond doesn’t start coming alive until you’re closer to thirty than twenty.

Anyone who knows him would be impressed he was able to wait as long as he did, Sam is a romantic at heart, and you don’t even after to dig very far to find his mushy center. It’s not a trait he’s hidden, and he hasn’t waited for his Soulmate either, he’s dated and even fallen in love a few times.

Obviously though something hadn’t clicked. To be honest he had never been sure what it was.

Maybe that’s why he felt nervous as he paced around his house, fidgeting things before putting them back down carelessly before stating the process again. He was procrastinating before he went to visit his family, coming up with all kinds of internal excuses.

It was his ma’s birthday that brought her into town to stay with his sister, it would be selfish to distract from her big day.

There really wasn’t much to tell yet.

His sisters would probably overreact.

But really, he couldn’t sit around and lie to himself all day, he didn’t want to tell anyone else because he was afraid of disappointment. What if something was wrong with him, and that’s why his old relationships didn’t work out? What if everyone got all excited and nothing happened, and with him a few years past the normal Soulmate bonding age--what if that was an omen?

Sam was getting himself so wound up--more than dropping out of a plane or patrolling the desert which was ridiculous--that his stomach was getting upset.

Mint.

Steve and his Ma alike suggested mint for any sort of queasiness and he found his fingers reaching for one without conscious thought, his mind still scattered to the wind.

The mint had barely touched his tongue before he turned and spit it into the trashcan with a disgusted noise, “What the hell.” He muttered, genuine confusion in his voice before he spied the pack of bubble gum he had bought on a whim yesterday.

It was an odd choice for him, and he still wasn’t sure why he bought the overly sweet stuff, but he unwrapped it and popped one in his mouth anyway.

As the flavor burst on his tongue he felt a sudden rush of a reckless sort of bravery that can only come from growing up emulating someone with nothing left to lose. The giddy rush from taking a curve at too high speeds on a motorcycle and the simple surge of confidence from outwitting an inanimate object that had been kicking his ass for weeks.

They weren’t his, the flashes that were more sensation and sense memory than anything else, but the feelings he got from them didn’t seem foreign. _Those_ were still a part of him, even if the specific experiences that they were earned in were not his. Like the bond had unearthed the feelings that he had experienced before, that his Soulmate complimented with their own. 

It was confusing until it wasn’t, until he trusted his instincts and grabbed his jacket to go out, steps lighter and his earlier anxiety fast fading. He popped a bubble loudly as he locked his door, feeling ballsier and more fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants than he had in years.

Sam wondered if his Soulmate had helped him consciously or otherwise, until he realized it didn’t even matter, the fact is that they did.

“Is this an intervention?” Natasha made the deadpan joke with a face that says she would rather not be there but slid into the booth across from her brother nonetheless.

Bucky smirked even as he was squashed by Steve shoving him over with the enthusiasm of someone who still remembered being shoved around by everyone from prepubescent boys to tiny old ladies.

Sam joined them and she was relieved to no longer be the only sane one at the table, or maybe the most level headed would have been better. There was a reason the two had struck up an easy friendship years ago, even beyond what he did for their family.  
He set their beers on the table, “We are gathered here today because I have news to share.” Steve was grinning like an idiot, even as he got an elbow to the ribcage for his trouble of acting like he was going to drink his best friend’s beer along with his own, “In December I felt my Soulmate for the first time.”

Steve, bless his soul, cheered like this was the first time he had heard this news, or like his team had just won the world series. Bucky was grinning as well and raising her bottle to toast his friend, but Natasha waited before reacting, taking a moment to look over Sam’s face.

Natasha had always been one of those people to not offer blanket congratulations or or even condolences, trying not to pigeonhole people into situations they thought they should be happy or sad. Some people wanted celebratory drinks after a break up rather than condolences.

However Sam’s face, from his eyes to his posture, showed nothing but joy in this event. He was relaxed and couldn’t keep the genuine smile from his face and she let his elation seep into her as well, reached out an arm to wrap around his shoulders and bring him close.

“I am happy for you, let me know what I can do to help.” Sam grinned at her, full faced and open, bringing out the same unguarded joy in her own expression.

He had that way about him, always had apparently.

Across from her Bucky was making that face he had made since he was a toddler that showed he had a secret because he was apparently born with a terrible poker face and everyone knew it. Sam ignored him for the moment, reaching out to ruffle her hair fondly in a way that he knew annoyed her but wouldn’t lash out at still, “You’re the best Nat.”

“Hey!” Steve pouted, “I’ve been trying to help this whole time!”

“Yeah you’re alright too I guess.” Sam glanced at Bucky, who was looking fit to burst, stared at Natasha as if waiting for permission.

She sighed, shrugged her shoulders and he hardly waited a beat, “Nat felt her’s in December too! Could you guys have the same Soulmate?”

Natasha and Sam glanced at each other skeptically, “I don’t think so, Nat and I are lookin’ for very different things in people. Romantically speaking” If he hadn’t stopped by her place to drop off food the day before she still would have known that he had recently had family events going on by softening of his syllables and drawn out _I_ ’s and _a_ ’s.

His friends usually liked to be right assholes about giving him shit for it, but today they were obviously distracted.

“Perhaps they live together, or are related and are travelling together?” She offered and Steve nodded, pulling out one of the small notebooks he kept with him at all times.

Oh, this was going to be good, “Alright what do we know so far?”

Sam and Nat glanced at each other, debating with eyebrows and half smiles like they had been doing for years, so it was Bucky who spoke first, “Nat’s girl knows a lot about diamonds.”

Steve’s eyebrows rose in curiosity, “Diamonds? I wonder what her profession is?” There was obviously a list going on, being formed in Steve’s almost unsettlingly neat handwriting.

“A thief.”

Their heads jerked towards her at her quiet admission, and Nat pulled her hands from her pockets to show Bucky’s phone, Sam’s ID and Steve’s wallet, “I’ve found myself pickpocketing without realizing it lately.”

“Hey!” Bucky snatched his phone back protectively, and Steve was giving her a concerned expression she didn’t really want to see.

“Not all thieves are bad people. Maybe she learned it out of necessity.” Nat could only nod--she had been trying to keep an open mind--before looking at Sam expectantly to continue.

Bucky was giving her a look of understanding, knowing better than anyone what kind of family she had come from back in Russia before the Barnes family adopted her

Sam watched Steve retrieve his wallet sedately as he stowed his own license away, “Mine is either from California or lived there for a long span of time prior to five years ago.” 

As Steve jotted it down Bucky looked at him curiously, “How do you know that much detail?”

“Sam here had some very strong opinions on gentrification in a particular neighborhood.”

He nodded, “I looked it up, it started about five years ago, so she must’ve lived there for a long time before then since she’s got such an attachment to the way it was.”

Nat raised her eyebrows curiously, “You sure she’s female?”

Sam nodded, he had been an out bisexual for most of his life and his friends were more than accepting, but also willing to trust when he said he _knew_ the gender of his soulmate.

“She gets carsick easily.” It took Nat a moment before she continued, and her friends, bless them, did not push her to respond quicker. Although, in the same vein they were also little shits because Bucky was grinning like the asshole he was at her fond tone.

Steve wrote it down, though she wasn’t sure how they would use it to find them, “She rides a motorcycle,” Steve visibly perked up at that, “I think her dad taught her? There is definitely an emotional attachment there.”

Bucky grinned, “Sounds like you guys got a couple a’ baddasses for soulmates. ‘S good since you two are so boring--OW! What was that for? Who kicked me?”

It was Nat, and he knew it, “She’s a heavy sleeper, but sometimes sleeps during the day, maybe some sort of job that makes her rotate shifts?” Which would play into the professional thief theory none of them were lingering on. 

Nat had felt it when she would wake up in the middle of the night like she did, the feel of someone pulling her back to sleep with a lethargic grip. When it happened in the middle of the day it was annoying, sitting down for lunch when she suddenly felt like she was already in bed and walking through the day in a haze as if half of her was already asleep.

Steve wrote it, even as she looked to Sam, trying to redirect the attention from herself, “Bubblegum. She loves sugary bubblegum. It helps her when she’s afraid.”

Natasha couldn’t help but grin at that, picturing Sam doing the same thing, tossing back chewable courage before going into a VA meeting.

Then their burgers came, the notebook went away and the talk of Soulmates diverged into Clint’s latest archery injuries, Peggy’s frustrations with her new recruits and Steve’s latest art commission.

Sam and Natasha held hands under the table, trying to gather courage from each other even as they promised to keep their friends better updated as the time for properly meeting their soulmates grew closer. Fears that they won’t be good enough, that their friends were just lucky and this whole Soulmate business is all hype. That their Soulmates will only be attracted to them _because_ of the bond and not for other reasons.  
But they’ll make it. They always do.

As if speaking of the the nightmares had brought them back, Natasha found herself back in ten year old Natalia’s body again that night. Sitting awake, back straight and legs tense like she’s ready to bold, heart hammering in her chest and pupils dilated with adrenaline even though she was shock still.

Steps coming down the hall, louder than they had any right to be, loud as thunder, louder than life booming down the wood floors towards her door. It was a dream, and somewhere deep inside she _knew_ that, but it wasn’t enough--she could feel her knuckles aching from where her fingers were clenched in the sheets and in her knees where they were locked together stiff as a board.

Terrible for her, her ballet teacher would say, but she wasn’t here right now, was she?

Just Natalia, and the steps that were getting louder, louder even than her impossibly booming heartbeat in her ears.

Alone.

_Cold._

_Scared._

_Again._

Except. 

All at once, she wasn’t. Between one terrified breath and the next there was someone next to her, an adult woman with dark curly hair, pretty blue eyes and a metal baseball bat at her side. The woman wore plain clothes but held herself with a confidence and grace that rivaled her teacher, or maybe Natalia was just starstruck and so very grateful that she wasn’t alone anymore.

The woman put her arm around Natalia’s smaller, thin shoulders and pulled her close, “I don’t have my glasses and even dream me is short sighted as all get out so if someone gets through you’re going to have to tell me where to swing but I’m going to be here until you wake up, okay?”

Natalia wanted to cry, most people didn’t believe her or didn’t care and now this woman not only believed her but was going to _defend_ her.

She wrapped her arms around the woman’s midsection and squeezed as tight as she could, relaxing in her own room for what felt like the first night in years.

In the waking world, in Brooklyn New York Natasha Barnes stopped her restless tossing and turning with a smile on her still sleeping face.

Sam and Natasha were totally (definitely) at the stage in their friendship where they could call one another and wake them from a dead sleep in times of need. They both had nightmares that they weren’t comfortable with talking about in the light of day and thoughts better shared in darkness when tears could go unseen.  
So he was prepared to be there for Natasha when his phone rang with her ringer but unprepared for her elated and relieved tone when she said “Sam! Sam she’s so beautiful.”

It was hard not to smile with her, not when Natasha sounded so happy she might actually be crying. He knew--they all did really-- that she had not been the most optimistic since this started, but it sounded like the thing that would turn the tide with her.

“Tell me about it.” Sam’s disappointment that he hadn’t had a similar experience with his soulmate and got to see her face was overshadowed by his joy for his friend as he listened to her speak without a hint of resentment coloring his reactions.

March

Beeping. Incessant rhythmic beeping in his ears all through his latest VA meeting that had started shortly after a sudden almost debilitating headache that began with a stabbing pain above his left ear. Now there was beeping, like a distant echo that he couldn’t pinpoint, along with an itch on his right wrist that couldn’t be scratched.  
His mouth was dry no matter how much water he consumed, and if it weren’t for being so damn stubborn he probably would have gone home for the day.

Currently Sam had escaped to an unused, out of the way office to take some excedrin and lean his head back against the wall in hopes that stillness, combined with the silence and darkness would help the pounding in his skull.

But he opened his eyes and instead of darkness found a far too bright light, the beeping more intense and close by and the pain in his head sharper...more real. His mind felt fuzzier than it had any right to feel after taking something at the level of excedrin and when he reached up to rub his hand over his head at of habit he almost had a heart attack somehow more startled than waking up in a different room--

 _Because that was not his arm_ , not his beautiful dark skin tone so like his mother’s, in fact that wasn’t even a male hand he was looking at, “Fuck.” Under normal, not fuzzy circumstances he would have probably liked the voice he heard when he spoke, but his brain _was_ fuzzy and he was kind of freaking out because due to some very specific memories Sam did _not_ like hospitals as a rule. There was also a pain in his side when he took deep breaths or moved his arm that reminded him far too much of damaged ribs.

It was becoming increasingly clear that is just where he was, and panic surged in him that was a mix of worries that his Soulmate was in the hospital with a head injury at minimum, and the usual frenzied one that came in spurts when he was in a medical facility brought about by memories of sand filled medical tents in the scorching heat.

_Breathe_

Sam reminded himself, and like a mantra he counted through his family members with their full names in order by age. Both sets of grandparents, aunts and uncles, siblings and their children. By the time he reached the baby of the family he felt himself calm down immensely even though the fuzziness was still there.

_Hello._

There was a voice in his head, alright. That was totally _fine_.

_Uh. Hi._

He had read about this happening with Soulmates, both the temporary body sharing and the speaking while in that state, but that didn’t make it any less unsettling.

_Sorry for the bad introduction._

Even her inner voice sounded fuzzy, it made Sam want to rip out the IV and figure out what they were giving him--her--to make her this out of it.

 _I’m just glad to talk to you finally._ And it was quite true, which was good because it would probably be difficult to lie to her in their current state, _Are you going to be okay? What happened?_

 _Gonna be fine_ Even telepathically (mentally?) her words held the markings of a west coast accent which answered a few questions, _You ever let a friend get you in over your head?_

He laughed, the amusement somehow still reaching down into his bones to the point where he heard it outloud from her mouth which was more than a little weird hearing his laugh in a woman’s voice.

 _Been there, done that, still got the idiot friends to prove it._ Sam thought at her and ‘heard’ her laugh in response, and though he didn’t truly hear it and she was still so clearly out of sorts, he found he still loved it.

Just then the door to her room opened and a woman slipped in wearing an old fashioned sunhat that Audrey Hepburn would have loved and clunky pink sunglasses that hid a good portion of her face.

“Alright Wondra, time for a prison break.” It perhaps said something about Sam, that when the woman pulled out handcuff keys which brought his attention to the fact that he was _handcuffed_ to the hospital bed he was more concerned than upset.

The room started to fade around him as she spoke through her own mouth properly, though it came out in the raspy whisper of someone who hadn’t spoken in several days at least, “Darcy.” There was an almost tangible relief in the name.

_See you on the flipside flyboy_

_No!_ He tried to hold onto her but he didn’t know how damnit, _What’s your name?!_

But his next breath and sight came from the dark office in the VA, headache gone but worry still there.

“Lucy I’m home!” Sam Wilson has a key to her apartment, sometimes she regrets this decision. Possibly worse is that Bucky and Steve also have keys to her apartment, in fact they all have each other’s keys for emergencies and the like.

But at least the others didn’t take her request to announce their presence the same way that Sam did.

Natasha stepped out of her bathroom dressed but still towelling her wet hair, it had been a few weeks since the first dream with her soulmate and even though she still had the nightmares she had visited twice more. It had made her mornings exponentially better and it showed, “Did you bring breakfast?”

Sam, true to form, handed her a brown paper bag from their favorite mom and pop bakery with a croissant that she took to her dining room table where a cup of coffee had also been set. So maybe it wasn’t _such_ a bad thing when Sam came over unexpectedly, “So I have good news and bad news Nat, which do you want first?”

She opened her mouth to reply but he raised his hand--”Actually, the bad news won’t make sense without the good news first so nevermind.” Sam was pacing, getting more wound up by the moment so he earned a little forgiveness for cutting her off along with her raised eyebrow and curiosity, “I talked to my Soulmate. Not in a dream, I was hearing things from her side and I didn’t realize it. I had a headache at the same time, I went to rest in a dark room and when I opened my eyes I was in her body and spoke to her.”

It was clear by her expression that she was trying to hold out on her excitement because of the aforementioned bad news but it was hard when she wanted to hug him, be as supportive for him as he had been with her.

Steve would have prompted Sam to finish, Bucky would have looked uncomfortable before finally nudging at him, but Natasha just waited him out.

“She’s going to be fine, I think a concussion? A cracked rib or two? Not entirely sure but she said she was going to be fine.” He ran his hand over his face and sighed, “The first time I hear her laugh and she’s drugged up in a hospital room Nat.”

Natasha abandoned her coffee to walk to him, to put her hand on his tense shoulder and wait it out. She wasn’t known to be the best at comforting, but she never _left_ and sometimes that was enough, “What happened to her?” She didn’t ask, _is that the good news or the bad news_ though that question hung in the air between them.

Sam stepped closer to lean his head on her shoulder, close enough to gain strength from her presence but not enough to crowd her, “Well, she said her friend got her in over her head in something and Nat--” He paused, “Remember our theory that our soulmates were travelling together or something like that?”

Natasha felt her heart drop to somewhere around her stomach and her throat go dry all at once, “Did you see her?” _Did you see her in the hospital?_

Maybe it was her tone, her word choice, or just Sam’s intuition that made him such a good friend but he stood up straight and put his hands on her shoulders, “She’s fine, at least if she is who I think she is. You with me Nat?”

Sam, bless him, waited until she visibly relaxed and nodded before continuing, “Your girl, you said she’s short with long dark curly hair, sometimes wears glasses and has blue eyes right?”

Natasha nodded, “Well?”

He visibly winced, “The farther I get from it--” The glare being directed at him made him raise his hands in surrender, “Yesterday! It happened just yesterday I swear!” It seemed to placate her at least, “I think she was trying to avoid cameras? But she had the height, the hair, and she was with mine so it all adds up, does she uh--”

Awkward and uncomfortable Sam was usually something Natasha took great joy in exacerbating but not this time, “Does she ‘what’ Samuel?”

“Is she well endowed? She was wearing big sunglasses and nondescript clothes okay and I didn’t see her for very long, I wasn’t able to memorize many identifiable features!” He looked embarrassed and apologetic but Natasha just laughed.

It was a combination of her learned talent of rarely blushing regardless of the subject matter and the fact that she had never cared about breasts beyond aesthetics that made her smile in amusement and nod, “She is.” Though she was a child in her nightmares when she encountered her soulmate and was still unable to take enough control to ask reasonable adult questions like her name, location and why she looked so prepared to beat up a fully grown man with a baseball bat she had still noticed what Sam had pointed out.

“Her name is Darcy, she was there to help bust out my Soulmate who was _handcuffed_ to the hospital bed Nat. Called her Wondra.”

Natasha recognized that name even though she didn’t know from _where_ just yet, although she knew it was in conjunction with Steve. But that wasn’t the point right now, the point was the sharp look in Sam’s eyes and the panic that seemed to be hidden just under the surface.

She reached out to her friend and put her hands on either side of his face, making him maintain eye contact with her, “We will help them. We will get this figured out, they will be fine. Are you with me Sam Wilson?”

There was a long moment of hesitation before he nodded, “Does that mean you have a plan?”

A shark’s grin tugged at the corners at her mouth, “I always do.” In all reality she only had the beginnings of one but that was going to have to be enough for now. She had made do with less in the past and she didn’t have her little makeshift family then.

Now, all she had to do was text Steve in a way that would make him hightail his ass over to her place.

_Hey Rogers, why don’t you bring my brother by my place and tell Sam and I everything you know about Wondra?_

Sometimes, straight to the point was most effective.

Less than an hour later Natasha opened her door to find not so much her brother and best friend on her step but Detectives Barnes and Rogers, all upright and serious in a way that she would normally be proud of like a fussing mother hen. 

Perhaps as part of that work persona they were both wearing they had knocked instead of letting themselves in, waited for her to step aside with a wave of her arm before walking in instead of hugging her and making themselves at home like usual.  
There is a tablet in Steve’s hand as he looks around the room as if making sure there is no one else there, “Where did you guys hear about Wondra?”

“First,” Sam said as he stood up from the floor where Natasha had forced him to go into a series of dancing stretches to calm himself down, “You have to promise what we talk about won’t go beyond the four of us, even your significant others for now.”

Bucky snorted, “Only about 60% of the information we brought with us we are even supposed to have access to in the first place, so I think everyone keeping their traps shut would be best.”

Natasha paused in pulling out mugs for coffee, “But you already had that together didn’t you?”

Rogers just shrugged, “Well we were already curious.” As if they were talking about neighborhood gossip rather than something that count easily potentially get them both up shit creek without a paddle (or worse, expelled).

As if Steve’s grin was what they were waiting for the tension seemed to break all at once and everyone let out the breath they had been holding. Bucky and Steve took off their jackets to sling them haphazardly over the backs of the dining room chairs before moving to the couch

“You still got the chromecast plugged in Nat?” He yelled to her where she was pouring coffee in the kitchen.

“Of course.” She responded as she listened to them get comfortable in the living room, the TV turning on and aux settings being changed.

When she joined them Steve had his tablet out on the tablet where he was flipping quickly through emails and files. They each took their coffee with quiet thanks before she went back to the kitchen for her bag of popcorn, ignoring Bucky’s complaints about the smell like she had since they were teenagers.

 

“Alright so…” A few more taps before the default windows screen on her TV changed and two side by side pictures appeared.

  
[](http://s1039.photobucket.com/user/Keri_Boone/media/cinnagift2_zpsileedinm.jpg.html) [](http://s1039.photobucket.com/user/Keri_Boone/media/cinnagift1_zpsjdfyslod.jpg.html)   


He set it back on the table to take a drink of his coffee while the others took in what was on the screen, “Those were actually made by one of their fans on the investigation team apparently.”

“Fans?” Sam questioned, eyes still glued to the screen.

Bucky took over then, leaned forward with focus and intent in his eyes, “Before you we have two of the FBI’s most wanted, but also best kept secrets. Their Alias’ are Wondra,” He pointed to the woman on the left, “And Max Black. Real names unknown, we know Max’s name because she likes to hack into government servers containing pictures and anything else from them, wipe it and leave what she thinks are cute notes like ‘Good eye! Taking them for the scrapbook! Kisses-- Max Black xoxo. These are the only two they left us.” 

Sam interrupted, “The other alias?”

Bucky snorted and rolled his eyes, “We know her’s because she actually chatted with a couple plain clothes officers including introducing herself, apparently very exuberantly. They were on a stakeout outside one of her targets and she got them to move out of range before it blew.”

When he went to take a drink Steve picked up, “They have spent the last five years as far as we they can pinpoint, but maybe longer waging a two woman war against the Chinese Triads that have activity in the US, and any crime Families allied with them and businesses that supply them.”

With a swipe of his hand the screen changed on the tablet and the TV in the process to show a collage of pictures of burned or otherwise destroyed buildings and vehicles. 

“From what we've gathered, mostly from sightings of Wondra by officers and agents she's the hands on engineering and arsonist of the duo. She shows up, sometimes talks with anyone unfortunate enough to be nearby and then - -” He mimed an explosion with his hands, “They are always careful of friendly fire, it's bizarre.”

There was silence for a long moment before Natasha turned from the screen back to them, “If you have pictures why haven't you found them? School photos? Street cameras?”

Bucky leaned back into the couch with a sigh as he rubbed his face, “Max is good, she's wiped the both of them from existence, and between avoiding cameras and her skills it's damn difficult to track them.”

Natasha didn't let up though, “You could release them to the public, see if anyone comes forward with tips?”

While she ignored Sam's glare that seemed to say _don't give them ideas_ Steve did not, taking notice of it while Bucky answered her. 

“Two things, one the people in charge are worried they might have families who would be targeted by The Families before they could be moved,” He took a drink before continuing, “Second, they are afraid of making them heroes in the eyes of the public. People like underdogs, they like people who fight the good fight, vigilantes are dangerous but at the end of the day many will just think they are protecting the common folk.”

Sam's snapped his fingers, “That's what you meant by fans!”

Bucky grinned at him, “Yeah, some people aren't exactly busting their ass to catch these two, especially the ones they have saved. A lot of officers and detectives have lost friends or even family to these guys, although one time apparently a guy almost got blown up because him and Wondra were having a too energetic debate about motorcycles.”

Steve swiped his hand across his tablet again and the TV displayed reports from those who had witnessed the women's work or interacted with them. 

Natasha's eyebrows drew down in confusion suddenly, “Wait, what do you mean ‘if they have families’”? 

Bucky hesitated and so it was Steve that responded, “There's lots of theories about their motivation, but one common thread is that their families were killed or sold by a Family, probably Triad since that's where they started.”

Natasha stood to pick up the tablet and swipe at it, revealed even more pictures of destruction, “It would make sense, vengeance is the oldest drive in history.”

They let her have a moment to take it in as Steve and bucky seemed to have a silent argument the way only two people who grew up together truly could. Steve seemed to lose and he glanced between their two friends with a resigned sigh, “Alright, fair is fair, how did you guys stumble on this?”

Sam laughed and gestured to the TV where Nat was back to the dossiers of the women, “Gentleman, let me introduce you to our soulmates.”

In response Bucky groaned and buried his face in his hands while Steve whistled, “Well fuck me running. This just turned into a FUBAR.”

Natasha awoke under the suffocating pressure of someone else’s worry and anxiety. Fear coursed through her veins like a poison, made her eyes jump around the room as if trying to to find the source of impending doom, made her heart race and skin crawl. There had been no nightmares this night to keep her awake, and she had been sleeping deeply until the weight of emotion had been too much. 

It wasn’t her’s. Now that she was calming down she could recognize that, that while she could identify the emotions as what they were because she had felt such things before she also knew instinctively that they were not her own. Which means that they must be her Soulmate--Darcy’s--someone whose name she only recently learned and had a close friend/cohort who had recently been injured.

She knew some things about Darcy, little things and even a few big ones now. Knew she was shortsighted, that she had a husky voice that was a comfort to Natasha, knew that she loved sugary sweets far more than Natasha herself did due to some unusual selections she had been making at her favorite bakery lately. While apparently Sam’s Soulmate, who was also Darcy’s friend had roots in California Natasha had settled on the confident theory that Darcy was from somewhere in the Southern US. The accent flavoured her words when she spoke to Natasha in her dreams, and Natasha had found herself switching to the local country stations more often and already knowing the words.

What she didn’t know was how to comfort Darcy, how to calm the panic she could feel creeping in on her from however many miles away.

Sam needed to talk over whatever was bothering him, pick it apart until he figured out _why_ and how to fix it. He knew the value of that, and acknowledged that sometimes he needed someone to help move him along in that process.

Steve needed to _do_ things, whether it was to prove his capabilities at times of stress, be generally useful to feel better or just to keep his mind distracted she wasn’t sure. Sometimes they sparred, sometimes she shoved sketchbooks and charcoals in his hand and watched him fill up pages and pages. He just needed to have at least one of His People in his sight when he was as upset as Darcy was now, if only to prove they were alive.

Natasha herself? Didn’t like to be crowded, didn’t even like to be talked to often times. When shit went south and things were looking bleak she wanted no more than one of their family with her. She would lean against them while they were watching a movie or reading a book, let Sam (or Darcy, in her nightmares) run their fingers through her hair until the world felt a little more right. Mrs. Barnes used to sing to her, and Darcy had even done so a few times, though she knew few lullabies and instead went with folk songs Natasha didn’t recognize but somehow still found comforting.

But the question remained; what would calm Darcy? Natasha thought about what Sam had said, and what she had read about communicating with Soulmates like this and it sounded just _silly_ but she tried it anyway.

_Darcy._

If anything the wall of tension seems to grow stronger at her attempt at communication, but at least it tells Natasha that she was heard.

_Darcy_

Again, this time with more insistence. Natasha wasn’t one to be ignored under any circumstances.

The feeling changed to one of defensiveness and pointed silence.

_With me._

Natasha slung her feet over the bed and onto the floor, standing with a plan and intent in her eyes.

_Please_

With the ease and comfort of a well learned routine she started moving through an extended version of her breathing exercises. She made sure to keep her mind more relaxed and open than it was on a normal day to day basis, trying to make her calm a well that her Soulmate could draw from like an Oasis.

The yoga set that helped work out the kinks in her muscles that had accrued during the night were down slower than normal. The steps her body knew by muscle memory were more drawn out as she felt Darcy begin to relax, and if Natasha was reading her right then she was going through the steps as well. 

Natasha sat on her favorite rug with her legs pulled inward in the butterfly position, soles of her feet pressed together as she let her knees rest on the floor and just _breathed_. 

_Inhale. Gather strength from your people._

It sounded cheesy, but there was a time when Natasha was not as calm and mostly level headed as she was now.

_Exhale. Push out your worries_

It was helping, incrementally, but sometimes that was the only way that progress came about.

_Inhale. Gather strength from the earth_

Natasha closed her eyes as she held her breath, feeling an ill timed resurgence of memories from when she had first started to learn these exercises after coming to America. But now was not the time for bitter nostalgia.

_Exhale. Leave your stress from things you cannot change behind._

She extended her legs and reached for her feet with such ease that she could easily lay her head upon her knees without much of a strain. The bond with Darcy, that was becoming a little more solid day by day allowed her to feel that the other woman was straining a bit more than she was but that was fairly normal.

The memories kept trying to creep in, as if sensing Darcy’s distress was making her’s feel like it was welcome again (it wasn’t). Coming to America, learning English, being told she had a whole new _family_ a loud brother with an earnest best friend and a woman who was to be her mother--but didn’t ask to be called mother, was not an experience she liked to relive often.

_Are you okay?_

Natasha smiled as she switched poses, pleased with the progress they were making even if this was the cost.

_So now you speak to me._

She shot back, with a tease in her voice but no malice in it. But she can feel the sincere concern in the other’s ‘voice’ as well, and it causes an unexpected bubble of warmth in her gut.

_I am fine. Nostalgia I guess. How are holding up?_

There is a noise on the other side, that sounds somewhere between a broken laugh and a barely contained sob that Darcy has been holding in for Lord knows how long. It sounds desperate, and it is so quick but Natasha has never loathed distance so much for not be able to hug Darcy properly.

_That’s good. I’m glad._

Natasha opened her eyes and found herself in a room that she didn’t recognize, on a cold cement floor with her head in her hands. Oh. Sam was right, this was incredibly disconcerting, but at least she had more freedom than Sam had since her soulmate wasn’t bed bound. She lifted her head to take in her surroundings better, the walls were bare but there was a desk with a whole array of electronics including a laptop with three monitors, several hard drives and a handful of USBs. That seemed to be the only thing of any value in the room however, the chair was rickety at best, there were no rugs except one that was neon pink just a few feet from her at the foot of the bed that was probably intended for a sorority girl’s dorm. It made her ache to think of her Soulmate and Sam’s staying here.

Which led her to the most important feature of the room, a mattress on the floor with no box springs or frame but heavily blanketed, and in the center there was a woman. Wondra. Except not looking lively and healthy like the picture she had seen, but pale with sallow cheeks and a pained look on her sleeping face.

_We fucked up. We fucked up and she’s in pain but doesn’t want me to worry or really help. Wants me to just sit over here looking pretty like everything is normal._

There was panic in the voice Natasha heard in her--Darcy’s--head along with frustration, and Natasha understood that. Had held her mother’s hand waiting for news from Bucky’s unit out in the desert, then fussed over him in her own way in concern that he wasn’t telling them every way he was hurting (he wasn’t).

_What is wrong with her?_

Assessment, that was the first thing to do as you approached a new situation Steve had said. Between her closest friends she had a government agent, a pararescue, two ground soldiers, an FBI agent and former Carnie-Thief-Archer--so she knew more than the average citizen about an odd array of things including medical.

_There was a man with a crowbar. She had a concussion, fucked up ribs and a stitched up knife wound on her side._

Fucked up was right. No wonder Darcy was freaking out, Wondra didn’t necessarily have any one mortal wound but combined? Could be up the creek without a paddle. One thing was becoming very evident; there was going to be a time very soon when Darcy and Wondra were going to need to divulge some information to their Soulmates they did not necessarily want to do in order to get out of this.

_What did the doctor’s say? Does she know, or did you take their charts when you got her?_

It was obvious that she should have stayed at the hospital, but Natasha refrained from saying that. The last thing she needed was Darcy getting defensive and pulling away after they made progress and she was opening up to her.

_I’m giving her the medicine they recommended, her side is wrapped and her ribs are fractured but not broken and so far her concussion looks like it’s going to heal fine but they were monitoring her for signs it was getting worse. The wound needs to be cleaned and will leave a nasty scar but should be fine._

Natasha stood from where Darcy had been leaning against the wall to walk to the side of the bed and get a better look at the other woman. There was perspiration on her forehead even though the room was on the cooler side--

 _Oh. She also has a fever, but I gave her medicine for it! She’s lucky I noticed it, because she was just going to try and deal with it on her own._ Darcy snorted, and it was a relief to hear something other than frustration and fear from her, _Damn girl will whine and cry all day about a cold but she actually gets hurt and tries to be all goddamn GI Jane about it_

Natasha grinned at that, smoothing out the blankets on top of Wondra with the habit of someone who had looked after a few sick people and showed their care best when the other wasn’t looking.

_I have a few people like that too._

Darcy was silent for a long moment and Natasha could feel the impulse to pace and run her hand through her hair with restless energy. On a better day it would be amusing that Darcy was someone who obviously wore her emotions on her sleeve while her Soulmate was someone who prided herself on doing the opposite. Now, unfortunately, was not that day.

_I don’t know what I’ll do with myself if she dies. What if this happens again?_

The question was posed tentatively and Natasha took her time in answering it to befit the vulnerability shown in the asking along with the trust of it.

_It’ll hurt, it’ll suck but you’ll go on. But I don’t think it’ll happen soon, both of you seem to be pretty good at what you do even with this incident, and she seems like a strong woman._

Natasha had never been one to pad her words or layer compliments, even with her friends. But she wasn’t lying, and not just because Darcy would have been able to feel it now when they were connected like this. The two of them were strong, and from what she had already read they were talented and determined.

_Are you...lovers?_

Fuck. She hadn’t meant to ask that. But Darcy responded with a laugh.

_Definitely not. First of all, I’ve known her since puberty, it would be a little weird. But also, that’s not really something I’m interested in--_

Before Natasha could face up to the twinge of panic and worry in her mind or ask for clarification, Darcy rushed to do it herself.

_Not that I’m not interested in love! I’ve never been great at the stoic loner type, if I’m being honest. I’m just not interested in sex? I remember being a teenager and everyone else was going crazy with urges and wants I just didn’t have._

The shrug was felt even though Darcy couldn’t move her shoulders a Natasha moved to the only window in the room, half hoping to see something hinting at their location. 

_I tried it once or twice, but the things I read in books and saw in movies just didn’t happen for me you know? It was either that I felt invaded and more than uncomfortable or my mind went to what movie I wanted to see and the grocery list because what was happening wasn’t interesting enough to keep my attention._

There was a sudden spike of nervousness, but Natasha could hardly notice it at the rush of giddy relief that she herself felt. Darcy was like her! It made sense, being soulmates, but she had hardly wanted to hope with how her luck had been and how long it had taken her to understand and be content with how she was. It would seem that Darcy had come to terms with herself with more smoothness than she had and she was almost envious of that--

_\--sorry, Natasha? Please don’t shut down on me, I don’t know how to interpret what I’m getting from you but please don’t--_

 

Natasha came back to herself in a rush, and wished again she could reach out to physically reassure Darcy.

_Stop apologizing. I’m the same way._

Darcy’s answering laugh sounds like she might be close to tears but is still somehow happy. That’s okay, Nat has been there and it has been a very long day for Darcy, frankly it’s admirable she’s calmed down enough to hold this conversation. Natasha cleared her throat, deciding to move away from this subject that was probably a little sensitive for the both of them.

_Can you tell me why you two are doing this?_

Darcy seemed to take a deep breath before she answered, as if sorting out her thoughts and calming herself again.

_Well, it’s kind of a long story? And it’s not all mine to tell._

Loyalty was never something Natasha would chastise her for, especially when she hasn’t earned the trust of either woman, not really. But she made a quiet noise of agreement and encouragement to go on.

_I guess the long and short of it is that I met Wondra when she was twelve and I was thirteen, she got dragged into my orphanage screaming that her parents were murdered by men wearing gloves and suits. That there was no goddamn suicide involved._

**Fuck.**

_We all thought she was just crazy at first, but my friend Quake and I took her in our group, but then she got fostered with this Canadian Cowboy and his wife, Quake ended up with this government agent and his cellist wife and I got taken in by a Scandinavian astrophysicist because he wanted a friend for his daughter. We lost contact with Wondra a bit._

Natasha made a mental note to ask about the astrophysicist, not just because of how odd and unexpected it was but because of the obvious fondness in her tone when she talked about them.

_But Quake kept an eye on the orphanage, she had been circulating there longer than most, and noticed Wondra got--well, basically she got returned when she was seventeen. So after I moved out and she turned eighteen and was released, I took her to lunch and asked her to be my roomie but she said no. Up until that point she had been popping her gum at me, laughing, joking and throwing bits of napkin at me. Like we were just normal old friends._

 

Natasha moved back to sit in the questionable chair when Darcy paused, trying not to let her surge of bitterness at anyone _returning_ someone else overtake her, or memories about her own childhood before she came to the Barnes. This was more important, _Darcy_ was more important. Even now, who knows how many miles away and with so many secrets between them.

_But she stopped and got all serious, held my hand like we were breaking up and she was trying to keep me calm and told me that the men in suits thought she had forgotten them but she never would and she was going to find them._

Calloused hands tightened around the arms of the chair as she worked on breathing, sure that Darcy’s emotions were effecting her. Must have been, because Natasha had always valued her ability to keep calm, stay stoic and process everything before she reacted. But right now? She wanted to punch something.

_I’m a go with my gut type of person, and my instinct said not to let her go. So I decided to help her. We’ve been working as a team ever since, it took a few years to hone our skills, get funds together, a support network. But as it seems you know, we eventually took our show on the road._

Intent, analytical blue eyes went over Wondra’s face again and again as she listened, watching the other woman twitch in her sleep. This news definitely colored her perception, both positively and negatively and she was still trying to reign in a great many thoughts and emotions before she reacted. So she latched onto something she could say least likely to come out--well, least likely to push Darcy away at least.

_So you’ve thrown your life away basically being the sidekick in a cliche revenge plot? This isn’t bringing anyone back to life, it’s just getting your friend beat up and you on the FBI’s radar, and prison is your safest option at this point._

Again, that was not what she had intended to say and she regretted it _instantly_ and cursed Steve Rogers out silently because this was definitely his bad influence. To her surprise Darcy laughed, a true and deep throated sound that made Natasha think that she hadn’t fucked up beyond all recognition with her honest--though tactless-words. It was just a lot, alright? Even for a Russian. Natasha had gone from not wanting a Soulmate, to being open to the idea, and growing rapidly attached to her and protective all in a few months and now was being presented with the dangers of said Soulmate’s lifestyle. She could be forgiven if it made her say harsh things.

But Darcy surprised her again and just laughed, and for some reason Natasha felt her relax _more_. Could feel some more of the tension ease out of her with the emotional question presented to her instead of defensive or offended. In a way she was looking forward to Darcy becoming predictable to her like most everyone else, while also hoping it never happened.

_My favorite Harry Potter character is Luna Lovegood you know. She’s smart but not in the same way other people are, she knows a lot about what she’s passionate about and doesn’t give two shits if other people don’t like her subject matter. But she’s loyal and brave in her own way, and she dresses like the neighborhood crazy cat witch lady. Which is my life goal, obviously._

She said that last bit with such attitude and self assurance that Natasha couldn’t help but both laugh and believe her completely. That it wasn’t just some act.

_So what lesson, exactly are you trying to impart on me right now?_

Darcy sighed, as if this was the fifth time they had discussed this instead of the first. Who knows, maybe they had discussed this in Natasha’s nightmares for some odd reason and she didn’t remember it, those were a little fuzzy sometimes.

_My contribution to the story is no less crucial just because i am not the you know, Harry Potter of this story I have written myself into. Also yes, I know, if prostitution is the world’s oldest profession then revenge is the oldest motivation so it’s cliche but that doesn’t mean it’s not real to me, and to her. These are bad people, they’ve done terrible things, you don’t know that like we do._

It was hard to argue with that kind of conviction, and Natasha felt an inexplicable amount of pride at hearing that proclamation of well thought out introspection and loyalty from her Soulmate. She still hated Darcy putting herself at risk, but at least she understood the **why** of it a bit more, and she respected her for it. 

_So tell me about yourself Miss Soulmate, I’m afraid the scales are unbalanced here._

There was a grin in her voice and Natasha couldn’t help but laugh even as she braced herself. Fair was fair, even if opening up to someone new was like chiseling open her chest to reveal her inner organs.

_Well. Like many cold and dreary things, my story starts in Russia, in the winter._

[ ](http://s1039.photobucket.com/user/Keri_Boone/media/tumblr_inline_oivgb6jiB11t9ub4o_500_zps1wpm7yf5.gif.html)

Sam liked to think that the fact that he dreamed about being back on his grandparents property in Georgia in times of great stress was his mind trying to apologize for the way the universe was treating him. In reality it was just a coping mechanism, or self-preservation method after everything he had been through in his life--either way.

This time was no different, and he found himself fishing pole in hand at his grandpa’s catfish pond he had dug himself. To his surprise however, there was someone else there.

_I thought you were hurt…?_

Right then, in the Georgia sunshine underneath his grandmother’s favorite weeping willow Wondra looked healthy and happy. It was the first time he had really seen her outside of that one picture, but she didn’t look too different--hair still in a haphazard pixie cut but hidden under a lopsided black baseball cap, a bright yellow tank top and olive green cargo pants with oil stains along with barefeet and a black and pink jacket. It was hard to tell as the woman lounged back against the tree, but she was definitely short and that didn’t surprise him at all. His momma is short, as is his grandmother. Apparently Wilson men liked opinionated short beautiful women. 

_Yeah but this is a dream, I at least wanted the illusion of feeling like my normal self._

She popped a bright blue bubble loudly and grinned at him again in response to his still worried face. It was unknown if in this form of communication she could still hear his thoughts; why are you doing this? Where are you, I’ll be there tomorrow to help I swear. What is your real name? What happened this time? But he didn’t want her to shut this down, to cut him off forever so he didn’t see her again until they were talking about finding her body on the news.

_We have a few friends who are detectives. We know what you’re doing, but what I wanna know is why?_

He had the right to ask that, didn’t he? Damn it all.

_Vengence. Justice. I’m not even sure anymore._

She picked at the grass idly with her fingers while popping another bubble, eyebrows furrowing as she seemed to gather her thoughts. Finally she glanced back up at him with a sigh.

_Darcy is pretty shook by me getting hurt, this asshole with a crowbar that she ended up taking down her taser. I couldn’t do this without her, and seeing her like this--_

She took her hat off and ran a hand through her hair and made a frustrated noise, and Sam wasn’t able to stop himself before he reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. It wasn’t much, because he knew more than most people that not everyone liked to be touched when they were hurt but he ran with his instincts.

_We’ve been thinking of retiring for the past few months ya’ know._

Sam knew he had made the right move when she more or less _collapsed_ into him, nearly knocking him off balance as she leaned her body weight into him. Ah, his Soulmate _was_ the affectionate type then. That worked just fine for him, personally. She buried her head in the crook of his neck and sighed as he wound his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. If only this was real. But the weight of her, and the thought that he was at least _helping_ somehow made him feel a warm pulse of happiness in his chest. Of course, his mind had to go and ruin it by catching onto part of what she said, and instead of pure relief he felt a bit of an old anxiety rear it’s ugly head.

_I want you to stop this, and I’ll do anything you need to help that, but you can’t change your whole life for a romantic partner. That isn’t healthy. You need to retire for yourself, not for me._

To his surprise he felt her cuff the back of his head and laugh into his skin, bumping her nose into his neck it what was probably meant to be chastising but instead just tickled.

 _Don’t psychoanalyze me bub. I’m not doing it for you, but watching you, and sort of--fuck I don’t know what you call all this gooey Soulmate sharing stuff, and what Darcy has gotten from The Russian--which I don’t know the details of!_ She rushed to assure him, but he was already laughing at Natasha being referred to as _The Russian_ like she was some super secret soviet spy, _You guys have been through your own forms of hell and done wrong by people too; ‘cept you both got out, and stayed out. Made a life, friends family steady jobs. The works. It’s different when you see that happening on like, lifetime channel and shit. But it’s like we partially lived it through you? And it makes us think we can. And anyway--it’s cheesy._

At some point in her rant he had started to rub what he hoped were soothing circles with his thumbs on her shoulder as he listened. It was disconcerting, how natural this felt so quickly. At least it was easier to focus on that than the reminder that she had seen his dreams with Riley, and others in the desert. It was nice and all, that reliving that with him was helping her somehow, but _talking_ about it was hard enough, but knowing she had watched him?It made him both want to squirm away and hide away and clutch onto her for reassurance that she didn’t think he was weak, or that he would fail her like he failed Riley.

_I love cheesy things. I got ‘em for days, what did the buffalo say to his son before he went to college?_

It worked, she laughed and he loved the sound as much as he knew he would.

_I don’t know, what?_

_Bison!_

Wondra groaned and turned her head to bite his shoulder lightly in retaliation, which made him pinch her shoulder, leading to her lightly headbutting him--or what was supposed to be lightly but somehow ended up with them both laughing and lying on the grass with her arm over his chest.

_Do you ever feel like you’re using pain to hide from more pain?_

It was suddenly more than a little hard to breathe, because of course he fucking had. He had used the pain of Riley’s death to shield himself from the pain of _living_ again, the fear of falling in love again, the fear of letting more people down, the fear of failing at everything else for the rest of his existence. 

_Yeah. Yeah I do._

It was a dream, but his throat was dry as she sat up and examined his face as if taking in his measure.

_You know, I like you._

Sam blinked at her in confusion and a little concern at her tone before he nodded at her and reached up to cup her face--pausing with his hand in view and giving her a chance to object if she chose to. She didn’t, and he traced the lines and curves of her face with his fingers.

_Thanks. I like you too, even though I don’t really know who you are._

It was both humorous and honest, though that was very often how his words were tinted and she seemed to be the same way. She was only a few years younger than him, but he could see the habit of easy laughter in her skin and eyes.

_Exactly. As my favorite foster dad would say--you don’t got the sense got gave a goose, but how about you wake up and give your buddies a call, see about what they would give us for stopping our extra curricular activities and giving them our info on the scum of the earth?_

There was a long moment before Sam could respond because his mind was stuck on how they were offering to turn themselves in! Soon! He could help look after her injuries and support Natasha as she got to know her Soulmate, they could look after them together and make sure they didn’t do any more stupid shit! 

_Sweet. I’ll run it by Darce and she’ll give the Russian our location._

She leaned down as if she were going to kiss him, and instead popped another bubble in his face. Her giggling response to his indignant squawk was the last thing he heard before he awoke.

 

April

Of course, things are never so simple. Not really. It It takes two months, give or take a week, for their little group to get everything arranged. None of them live terribly far from each other, although at the end of the day it is Sharon who volunteers her house for the two women coming in from the proverbial cold(and it is cold where they are, though Natasha and Sam haven’t shared that with anyone yet).

She’s a trained and commended FBI agent, she has the extra rooms and the patience to live with two people she has never even met before. They are getting a deal of course, immunity for the wealth of information no one doubts that they have and swearing to assist several law enforcement agencies (work, Darcy translates with a deadpan tone. Work with no promotions or raises.) for a minimum of five years. They cannot leave the state unescorted, and will have regular check ins with Sharon and several other agents.

Wondra is being competed over for her demolitions knowledge and her skill with repairing and upgrading skills, while Max already has a desk with a fancy chair and the works with the Intelligence Gathering team.

However, finally _finally_. It happens.

Steve, Sam, Sharon Natasha and Bucky pile into a van for a road trip to the safe house that the former-still-sort-of criminals had been recovering at and slowly going stir crazy in. Because they care, and because distance makes it easier to take pictures and video alike, their friends hang back when the door opens.

Max bursts out first, curls in disarray and in sweatpants with no shoes and a worn sweater from a college she’s never been to. She’s giddy and laughing and no one tells her that Natasha (or at least, sober Natasha) isn’t one for excited tackle hugs because it probably wouldn’t have stopped her anyway. Natasha has a few inches on Darcy, and uses it to pick her up and swing her around the snow as she nuzzles Darcy’s nose with her own, cheeks flushed and happy before she sets her down. Bucky and Steve, for once in their lives, display some self-preservation instinct and refrain from commenting when Darcy leans up on her tip toes to press butterfly kisses to Natasha’s cheeks.

“Alright kids, get in the van, someone isn’t prepared for this weather since you know, it just started a week ago that’s perfectly understandable. We’ll get your shit. Is it packed?” Introductions would be done in the heated van apparently, instead of outside like they had expected.

Darcy waved Steve inside, “Yeah, be careful with the heavier ones please, my obnoxious platonic lifemate is in the back disabling the last of the betties.”

Steve and Bucky both paused and Sharon tensed from where she was leaning against the van, texting an update to her CO, “Wait. As in, Bouncing Betties?”

Darcy’s smile was far too wide to be innocent like she was clearly aiming for, “Course not. Why would we have those? C’mon Nat-love, I’m cold.” She pulled Natasha towards the van with their hands tangled together, cheerfully ignoring Sharon’s muttering of _of course she’s goddamn cold she’s got no damn shoes on_.

Sam had already started making his way around to the back, heart pounding in his chest with nervousness for unknown reasons. It was silly, he had spent the last six months getting to know his Soulmate through late night conversations, shared memories and comforting one another. She was going to live fifteen minutes away, she was going to be happy to see him and he her and it was all going to be _fine_. What happened with Riley wouldn’t happen again, his family was going to love her energy, cleverness, and adore the way she adored him. So why were his hands shaking?

Maybe that’s why he was caught off guard when a squealing, five foot five mass jumped on his back, “Sam!”

“Please tell me you dropped the explosives before you tackled me.” He shot over his shoulder, but was grinning like the goob they both were none the less as she rested her head on his shoulder and he wrapped his hands around her thighs to hold her steady. 

“What do I look like an amateur? Don’t answer that!”

He laughed at that and spun her around, causing another squeal in his ear that made him flinch but he was so _happy_ it didn’t matter.

“Won--”

“Jubilation.”

He stopped, confused and glanced up at her, “Does that mean you’re happy to see me?”

She flicked his ear with a snort, “Well yeah, obviously, but that’s my name. Jubilation Lee, Quake and Darcy call me Jubilee though. Or Jubes. I guess I don’t need an alias anymore now that I got a proper home and life.”

Sam set her down gently and turned to lean down and press his forehead to her’s, “Yeah, you do.”

“C’mon love birds, it’s cold and I’m hungry!”

 _Jubilee_ grinned and wound her fingers with his, “Well let’s go then flyboy, I gotta meet these people properly and blow their minds with my awesomeness.”

They made their way towards the van in time to see Darcy’s head pop out of one of the windows, “Hey Sam, nice to meet you, Jubes! Where are my shoes?! They are feeding us proper in an actual restaurant! Gonna need shoes!”

Her answer was an eyeroll and a groan, “I ate them! This is why you can’t adult!” There was an irritated squawk from inside the van before Darcy was pulled back in and the window rolled up, and Sam laughed as he pulled Jubilee closer to kiss the top of her head.

Life was looking good, or at least his people were wonderful, and he could work with that, Sam thought as he looked over his makeshift complaining family in the honking vehicle. It was the best start to a new beginning anyone could ask for.


End file.
